The End Is Where We Begin
by PatatoGirl
Summary: There's never a perfect time for anything, sometimes there's just a time that's better than another. Sometimes there isn't... sometimes that time is in front of a thousand people and you're in that damn soaking wet Canucks jersey.


It was my first day in New York.

It was my first time seeing Brandon in three months.

It was the first hour of a new start.

My heart fluttered exuberantly in my chest as I stood in front of a dirty motel that looked like it rented rooms by the hour. The front door was hanging by only one of its hinges, and the paint was peeling off. The sign was missing letters that turned its actual name of "Golden Stay-Inn" to "old stain".

I stepped through the door hoping that the next time I was here I would be getting my luggage so that I could stay with Brandon in his comfy- albeit apparently small- apartment.

The old bearded man at the check in was bemused by my frazzled appearance, and offered to take my luggage upstairs so that I could go out. Or as he said: "Give me yer bags and get out".

Maybe it wasn't the best idea to come to New York on the grounds that I was finally going to proclaim my love for my almost foster-brother, but this couldn't wait.

I was finally eighteen; I was finally free of the system. No, I couldn't legally drink. No, I don't have a driver's licence, but I had a sealed file, a wad of cash and a passport. Yes, Lena and Stef offered to fund the trip, seeing as I was practically their kid, but this was a trip for me, and if I accepted money from them, then I my conscience would oblige me to tell them why I was coming here.

Something told me that they wouldn't appreciate the reason why I was coming here. Or at least they wouldn't see it the way I did.

The last time I saw Brandon was during the summer, where we tried out hardest not to constantly exchange sidelong glances and smiles across the table. I've known how much he's loved me for a long time. I just couldn't say it back.

I couldn't have another secret.

But now it wasn't a secret, now it was just me. Me, hailing a cab on West Street, preparing to scour an entire university campus and find the guy I loved.

This was a really, really bad idea.

The first cab soared by me, and the second was stolen by an eerily well dressed woman with a Chanel handbag, she reminded me a lot of my first case worker. The third decided to swoop into a puddle and spray me head to toe. Finally a cab pulled up and I hopped in and asked for the NYU campus, instead the cabbie just looked at me as if I was crazy through the rear-view mirror and turned to face me.

"The NYU campus is closed for the day; you know that today the New York Philharmonic orchestra is playing with the university orchestra."

I groaned and my head hit the back of the seat. Which was a sore reminder of how drenched I was as my wet hair stuck to it.

"Take me there anyways, please"

He gave me one more doubtful look before turning away from me and shifting into gear.

The faux leather seats made odd sounds as I twisted my upper body to put on my seat belt, but I couldn't find one, and instead there was just an empty holder. One or two alarm bells rung at the sight of that, and I found myself praying that this guy was a decent enough driver.

* * *

When I stepped out at the campus my stomach was churning and my knees were so weak that they nearly buckled, and now I was holding myself up against the yellow cab.

So my answer to my earlier ponderings was a resounding no. He definitely wasn't a good driver.

No good driver can turn a 20 minute journey into a five-minute trip while screeching onto every side road and shady neighborhood in the city.

As soon as I caught my breath I leaned into the front window and gave him a twenty-dollar bill, then he sped off and I nearly fell onto the concrete sidewalk again.

I turned around and walked slowly through a series of buildings, college students who were sitting on benches and under trees all turned and looked at me, probably, because I looked so lost, hopefully not because I looked like a complete idiot walking around New York in a soaked Canucks jersey and jeans.

I don't even know why I kept the jersey, it was a birthday gift from Stef and Lena when we visited Canada two summers ago. But on second thought, I was wearing this jersey when I kissed Brandon for the first time, when it was showering outside and we didn't have the common sense to stop kissing and get in the house.

"Are you Callie?", somebody asked behind me.

I spun around to find the fairly familiar face of Eric, Brandon told me about him over the summer, and I assumed that they were pretty close if he knew who I was. His face was a dark brown that matched his eyes, and he had a large smile on.

"Uh, yeah, you're Eric right?"

"So the pretty lady knows my name" he bent into a bow and swished his hand forwards in a swishy rotating motion, "Well I must say that your pictures do you no justice"

I laughed at his extravagance, "pictures?" I asked out of curiosity.

"Of course, I must say that Brandon seems to have quite an infatuation with you, even on account that you are his foster sister!"

I blushed at that news. I felt obliged to correct him, but before I could say anything he interrupted me.

"Well, not foster sister anymore, I hear. I believe that a 'Happy Birthday' is in order?"

My grin grew even wider and I had to commend Brandon for his taste in men. Not that he swung for the other team or anything though.

"How did you know?"

"Well it was I who had a pleasing job of ensuring he was awake to call you last night" he frowned dramatically, "but alas, my efforts were quenched by the displeasing news that your cellphone was turned off and your mothers were sleeping so it would be rude to wake them"

"Well, I apologise for the inconvenience, perhaps you could show me to Brandon instead? I would really appreciate that". I liked this guy more and more by the minute, because a glint flickered in his eye, one I didn't exactly trust, and he started walking across the campus.

His pace was quick, with long strides. The speed that we were walking at astounded me, because his alternative clothing choice of a professional tie, slacks and a Hawaiian shirt that was reminiscent of Charley Sheen would have led anybody to believe that he was lenient with his timing.

We arrived outside a large dome-shaped building within a matter of minutes, and as we cruised towards it, I could see long posters of different composers and instruments, and a large metal sign on top of the building that boasted "New York University Music Hall".

"Wait!" I stopped dead in my tracks and now it was Eric turn to spin around in surprise, "was today when Brandon is playing with the Philharmonic Orchestra?"

Eric faintly resembled the Cheshire cat as a grin grew so broad on his face, I was afraid his lips would crack. His eyes scrunched up at the corners and I could see the excitement beaming in them.

"Yeah it is, but please c'mon already, he's doing a solo piece and it's amazing, he's been practicing for months."

"He got a solo piece in the show!" I squealed and started jogging towards the hall. "C'mon!"

I can't believe that he didn't tell me, this is major! He's probably being heard by people from all over the states right now, I can't miss this!

My excitement propelled me forwards into a run, and soon enough I was a few feet away from the doors to the building.

A large woman in a security uniform and a seemingly odd cross around her neck stopped me as I reached for the doors.

"Excuse me ma'am, but you can't go in there, the solo section has just started."

"Please let me in there, I need to see somebody perform!"

She stared me up and down disapprovingly, "Are you a music student here?"

"Well, no…"

"Are you with the orchestra?"

"No, but-", she cut me off with a scowl.

"Are you a family member?"

Finally, an opportunity.

"Uh, yeah, Brandon Foster is my brother!"

She didn't seem to believe me but she opened the door and let me into a hallway, I saw her stand in front of the open door as Eric came up to it.

I beckoned Eric to come in with an anxious wave of my hand.

"Brandon's my brother too!" he exclaimed before ducking around the woman and running to meet up with me in the hall, I could see the lady jogging to catch up with us, but I had a feeling that she was more strength than stamina.

I heard Brandon's song being announced, he was up after the next performance.

We laughed as we ran blindly through the hallways, aiming to find to door to get backstage, we saw a glint of a sign that said "backstage" so we ran up to it and tried to force the door open. It was locked from the inside and the guard was catching up with us so we kept running down a maze of doorways as we tried to reach the entrance to the hall or the backstage door.

"Now we have one of our very own students with his original composition: Brandon Foster!" we heard announced from somewhere very close to us.

Eric opened the door and pushed me through and suddenly I was staring into the faces of thousands of people. The lights shone down on me and the gasps that could be heard weren't comforting the panic that was rising in my chest.

"Callie?" I heard Brandon say, sitting behind a large rand piano. "What are you doing here?"

He sounded slightly mad, not that it wasn't to be expected, I had constantly put his feelings for me to the side and now I was interrupting a moment that could ensure his future career in music.

"Well, I came to tell you something, but I didn't mean to do it like this" My voice seemed a lot louder in the dome, and I knew that everybody in the crown could see and hear me. "I'll be going now."

"Stop!" he stood up from his seat and walked over to me. "You've already interrupted, so you might as well say what's on your mind"

My eyes widened, he was really angry, but I knew him well. And I knew that he was just mostly curious. My fingers played with the hem of my wet shirt.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." There was no hesitation in his answer.

He wasn't standing very close to me, probably a few metres away, so I couldn't tell what he was thinking, so I took a shot in the dark and started talking.

"You are the single most incredible person that I have ever met." I turned to face the audience, "did you know that this guy taught my brother how to swim? Well, he did, and then he also taught him how to not care what people think"

No sound could be heard but my breathing, the audience stared at me intently and I could see the professional spectators moving about trying to find out what was happening.

"This guy, when he was only sixteen, followed me into a house and stared down the barrel of a gun to protect me from my foster father and help me get my brother out of there. He had only known me for a day when he did that."

The audience sucked in gasps. And it finally hit me just how much this guy was willing to risk for me, and how that made mw love him so much more.

"This guy treats everybody as if they are his family, he didn't care when his mom decided she wanted to be with a woman, and he loves those two trouble-making twins that adopted like they were blood." I didn't dare look at him now, "this guy has had girls swooning over him from the day I met him, and some of them were real pieces of work, especially this one red-head."

The audience laughed lightly.

There was no going back now, I was about to pledge my love for this guy on TV, or so I assumed from the FOX news crew that was having a field day in the press area.

"But Brandon decided he wanted me, as damaged as I was. He accepted that I wouldn't be with him till I was ready, till I was allowed to… until I was eighteen."

I turned to Brandon, "Well guess what Brandon?"

He smiled at me, "What?"

We walked closer to each other, until we were inches apart.

"It's my birthday and I think it's time that I tell you the truth."

"Well what's the truth?"

The tension in the room was unbearable and I smirked to myself at the scene I was making.

"I love you"

He swept me into a kiss and I could feel the enthusiasm of the audience as the stood up in their seats and cheered. I knew that this was it for us, three years of torture as I combated him away in an attempt to preserve the home that had been offered to me, but this time we had nothing left to lose, our enemies are ruined, and the end is where we begin.

It was like two summers ago in the rain, and I'm still in this damn soaking Canucks jersey.

* * *

**Thank you for reading, this is my holiday send off to you guys, so I hope that y'all have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!**


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